


don't stop, can't stop (until you feel it goin' down)

by alwaysbuddy



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Beach Holidays, M/M, Popsicles, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 08:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11055621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysbuddy/pseuds/alwaysbuddy
Summary: Nobody uses this much tongue-action with an ice pop, ever. This is definitely not fair.





	don't stop, can't stop (until you feel it goin' down)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Game 2's [one-word prompts](http://coffeekristin.tumblr.com/post/161101294288/game-2-one-word-prompts) of the [Blackhawks Summer Fic Fest 2017](http://coffeekristin.tumblr.com/post/161101119308/blackhawks-summer-fic-fest-2017)! 
> 
> I initially just picked 'ocean' as my prompt, but then it evolved into 'popsicles,' and I just couldn't resist. I'm pretty sure this has been written a million times, but I wanted a 3848 version, so there you go! Gotta love them rookies.
> 
> Quick note: I usually lock all my RPF the second I post it, but I'm gonna start leaving stuff unlocked for the first three days it's posted.

 

There's sand in his trunks.

It's barely been twenty minutes since they parked the cars and made their way down to the beach, but Vinnie's already feeling plenty murderous.

Tyler laughs obnoxiously loud in his ear, snagging a bottle from the cooler next to where Vinnie is stretched out across a towel. “You deserved that one,” he tells Vinnie, cracking the cap open. “Don’t tell me you already forgot that time you put ice in my gloves.”

“Fuck you. Ice _melts,”_ Vinnie says, disgruntled. He’d had to discreetly shove his hand down his shorts to scrape the sand off the back of his thighs while making sure no one was paying attention. He really hopes nobody got a photo of him doing that (but, knowing his group of friends, it’s probably already on Snapchat). “Hand me one.”

Tyler tosses him a beer, and salutes.

Vinnie watches him pad off to join the girls by the edge of the water, and he turns to clink his beer against Nick’s as a loud shriek and the sound of laughter reaches their ears. “Cheers, dude,” Nick says, tilting his head back to lean against the gym bag he’s using as a neck-rest. “I’ve really missed hanging out with you idiots like this.”

“Missed you too, dumbass,” Vinnie says, watching as Tyler gets shoved unceremoniously into the ocean by the girls, right after Hayds plucks the bottle of Saint Archer out of his hand. Justice has been served. He’s suddenly feeling much more cheerful than he had been thirty seconds ago.

There’s a rustle, a thump, and Ryan makes a satisfied noise from his other side when he drops down onto his own towel. “The concession stands are way too fuckin’ far away, here,” he complains, pushing his sunglasses up off his nose to rest them on his head.

“You had to walk all the way to the other end of the beach for a popsicle,” Vinnie says, eyes on the way the sun glimmers off the frozen lime-green treat in Ryan’s hand. “The struggle is real. I don’t know how anyone could question your loyalty to sweets.”

“It’s ice cream, c’mon,” Ryan says, flicking the popsicle in Vinnie’s direction. A bit of it drips onto his arm, and Vinnie makes a face at Ryan. “The beach? Ice cream? Two concepts that kinda go together pretty well?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Vinnie flicks his own bottle at Ryan in return, and Ryan jerks away reflexively, even though nothing actually gets on him. “You can keep your ice cream to yourself. I’m just gonna enjoy a few of these before the others wise up to the fact that we only brought two twelve-packs.”

“Only two twelve-packs,” Nick echoes, his eyebrows getting judge-y the way they do when he thinks Vinnie’s being weird. “Dude, how many d’you think you’re gonna get through today?”

“As many as I possibly can before I have to go back home tomorrow,” Vinnie sighs, caressing his bottle like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever held. “My gran doesn’t like the kids drinking, so we’ve all gotta keep it on the down-low.”

“You’re not a kid, you’re twenty-three. That’s practically an adult. Well,” Ryan says, scrunching up his nose, “not practically, you still act like you’re a six-year-old. Ah, wait— _technically_ an adult, there you go.”

“Flawless comprehension,” Nick comments dryly.

“Thanks for— _fuck,”_ Ryan says, attention diverted by his melting popsicle, liquid running down the back of his arm. Nick decides to leave him to it, and turns back to enjoying his drink as he suns idly. “I should’ve stuck it in a cup with some ice,” Ryan says to no one in particular, lifting his arm to run his tongue along the inside of his wrist. “Would’ve lasted longer.”

Vinnie’s gaze follows the motion. “Yeah,” he says absently, watching Ryan mouth his way back up along his fingers, before popping the iced lolly into his mouth, twisting it in and pulling it back out, before he smacks his lips, tasting the sugary lime on the back of his teeth.

“Mm. That’s good.” Ryan’s pink tongue darts out to lick the popsicle from bottom to top, but he can’t catch the bit that’s dripping again. “Fuck. I’m bad at popsicles. Don’t look at me.”

“No, nah, you’re good,” Vinnie says, vaguely reminded of something when he watches Ryan go to town on it, something that doesn’t really place in his mind until Ryan’s got the popsicle in his mouth again, and he makes a pleased sound that definitely sounds closer to a moan than anything else.

And, fuck, that turns his crank so fucking quick he nearly drops his beer.

 _Christ,_ he thinks, and he immediately has to stop thinking about it, because a crowded public beach is no place to be getting a semi over the thought of his best friend with a dick in his mouth.

“You’re good,” Vinnie repeats a little dumbly, _no, stop, you fucking idiot, stop thinking about it._  Stop. Don’t think about the way Ryan mouths at the tip of the popsicle, little kittenish licks before he moves back down to wrap his lips around the base of it, sliding it back up to catch all the melted bits, like he doesn’t want to waste a single drop. Don't think about Ryan looking up through his lashes, kneeling between Vinnie's legs, fingers curling over his hips. _Don't think about it._

Fuck. He’s thinking about it.

Ryan hasn’t noticed, thank God. Vinnie shifts a little to the right, draping one of the spare towels over his lap (just for good measure) and praying that nobody sees this either. This he definitely doesn’t want ending up on any social media channels.

But, honestly. The way Ryan’s attempting to eat this popsicle should be illegal. Nobody uses this much tongue-action with an ice pop, ever. This is definitely not fair.

“Not fair at all,” he mutters to himself, tearing his eyes away from Ryan to take a swig from his bottle. He attempts to focus on the waves coming up on the shore, and the others splashing around in the water, but a loud, wet noise draws his attention back to the side.

Ryan’s sucking on the tip of the popsicle, mouth wrapped tight around it, and in the same moment that Vinnie takes a very hard breath, Ryan’s eyes flick up to meet his.

“Uh,” Vinnie says, knowing he’s been caught in the act. Ryan can always see right through him, strangely enough. No matter how hard he tries to hide something, Ryan can always tell what’s going on. He’s too transparent. He doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing, most times.

Just like now.

There isn’t anything in Ryan’s expression except a bit of amusement. As if he’d totally been expecting this reaction from Vinnie. And then, as Vinnie’s watching, completely unable to make himself look anywhere else, Ryan tilts his head back, just a little, and slides the popsicle all the way back, slow and purposeful, until his fingers touch his lips.

Vinnie’s throat is completely dry.

Ryan doesn’t even break his gaze when he pulls it back out, just as slowly as he’d slid his mouth over it, and the way he laughs when he licks the excess sugar off the corner of his mouth makes Vinnie’s skin prickle with heat, his voice sounding low and deliberate. “Hey,” he says, “guess what I never ever told you.”

“What,” Vinnie says, but all he can focus on now is just how much he’d like to suck the liquid off Ryan’s fingers, and his wrists, and his lips, and he nearly misses the next words that come out of Ryan’s mouth. He’s glad he doesn’t, though.

Ryan says, “I have no gag reflex.”

Vinnie has to take a short moment to reflect whether it’d be rude to get up right now and leave everyone here while he drags Ryan back to their place.

“Also,” Ryan adds, like an afterthought, “I also give really awesome blowjobs. Just so you know. Just a heads’ up. Not that I’m implying anything. I am, actually, but just in case, y’know—”

“Ryan,” Vinnie says, “your popsicle’s melting again.”

Ryan drops his popsicle on the towel. “Oops,” he says, and Jesus Christ, he’s so bad at being casual that Vinnie wants to die, but not right now, because that would mean no blowjobs, and he definitely wants those, “can’t eat that now. Guess I’m gonna have to find something else to put in my mouth.”

“Oh my god,” Nick interrupts, still lying on his towel next to Vinnie, “I already had to sit through you deep-throating a popsicle, I don’t need to hear you get anymore specific, Hartzy.”

“Sorry,” Ryan says breezily, not sounding sorry in the slightest. Nick just flips him off. “Hey, Vin?”

“What?”

“Race you,” Ryan says, and Vinnie’s not even prepared for Ryan to leap up and take off running towards the shore.

“The fuck—hey!” Vinnie calls, nearly tripping on his towel to follow him, and he can hear Nick laughing all the way back on the beach when he catches up and tackles Ryan into the water. Ryan tugs him in along with him, and they’re both soaked within seconds. “You’re an idiot,” Vinnie informs him, scrubbing his hair back with one hand, the other clasping the back of Ryan’s collar, “why didn’t you take your shirt off first?”

“Wanted you to do it,” Ryan says smoothly, and Vinnie just kicks him under the water. “Hey, fuck you, I’m taking it all back if you do that again!”

“You won’t,” Vinnie says confidently, and he dunks Ryan back into the water, just for good measure. “And for teasing,” he says, when he’s finally dragging them back out onto the sand, Ryan still spitting water, “I’m never gonna be able to look at a popsicle the same way ever again, you asshole.”

“Good,” Ryan says, and he grins wildly, throwing an arm around Vinnie’s shoulders. “That way you’ll always think of me instead.”

 

 

 

  
(and +1:

They don't even make it back to their apartment. Vinnie topples Ryan into the backseat of his car when Ryan's putting his bag in the back, shutting the door behind him as Ryan yelps. "You're crazy," Ryan laughs breathlessly, but he's wriggling up a little to let Vinnie scoot nearer, reaching impatiently for Vinnie with his hands. "No patience at all."

"Can't help it," Vinnie says, and he kisses Ryan, still smiling, their knees knocking together and their bodies pressed together awkwardly as they stretch out along the seat, too-long limbs in too-small of a space. It's still the best kiss he's ever had. "Can't help anything around you.")

 

**Author's Note:**

> Boys will be boys.
> 
> [tumblr (motorsports/hockey)](http://schadenfraudulent.tumblr.com) | [title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWGJA9i18Co)


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